Behind Atlantis' Closed Doors
by Cookie Creed
Summary: Some people came to Atlantis to fight the Wraith. Others came to Atlantis as domestic workers to cook and clean for the Atlantis Expedition. Is this really what happens behind Atlantis' closed doors? You might just realise that the minor jobs are sometimes the most important and have a big impact on the members of the expedition.
1. Kitchen

**Behind Atlantis' Kitchen Doors**

Steam wafted from the stove up to the roof, heating up the entire kitchen. The pots of beef simmered away and Ben added a few sprinkles of parsley to one, stirring it around a few times. He then moved to the next one and did the same. For the third one, however, he put the lid back on. It wasn't ready yet.

Annie was on the other side of the kitchen, her cheeks red as she pushed the potato masher deeper into the mass of potatoes. Her hair was plastered to the sides of her head, as it always was whenever she worked. She put all her body weight behind the masher and worked on crushing the last pot of potatoes. There were already several deep trays filled with the mash and a bag of potatoes under the bench in case more was needed. She finished mashing and spooned the mashed potato into the last tray, patting it down and setting it next to the other ten trays.

"Alright!" Taylor, the head cook yelled. "We've got twenty minutes before dinner has to be out! What's your progress?"

"Beef only needs ten more minutes," called Ben.

"Mashed potato is done," Annie called.

"Vegetables still need another few minutes of stewing," replied Martin.

Taylor nodded. "What about breakfast for tomorrow? Porridge and apple muffins, both nice and hot!"

"Muffin mixture made," called Morgan, "and spooned into the trays. The right amount of porridge mixture has been measured out and marked!"

"Good work people!" Taylor yelled. "Now be ready to serve in fifteen minutes."

He left the kitchen and Martin turned to the vegetables, opening the two lids and swishing the broccoli and beans around. Satisfied that they were ready, he picked up the first pot of greens and poured it into yet another deep tray. He then stuck it in the washing up and poured the second batch of vegetables into another tray. One of the cooks moved out of his way as he carried both trays to the front of the kitchen, setting it down next to the potato.

Annie stood in front of the dishwashers that had been installed, piling cooking utensils into racks and putting them through the dishwasher. She pulled the first rack from the dishwasher and replaced it with another, turning to the one she'd just taken out. Then she grabbed a tea towel and grabbed a pot, drying it vigorously and setting it on a clean bench. Martin, who had finished his greens, grabbed the pot and returned it to its correct place. By the time he returned there were two more pots to put back and he kept up that rhythm of putting away while Annie dried each piece of equipment.

In a different part of the kitchen, Ben stirred the third pot of beef one last time, adding a sprig of parsley and pushing it into the beef/water mixture. He approved of moist cookery methods, as they were easier than dry cookery methods. That was why he was glad that he wasn't cooking lunch tomorrow. He poured the first pot of beef into a tray, the second pot into a second tray and the same for the third. Then he clicked his tongue and carried the first hot tray past Morgan and set it next to the greens. When all three trays were over there he gave the food a once over.

Then he swore. "Where are the carrots?!"

It was Martin's turn to swear. "Damn I forgot! There's no time!"

"We'll have to do without it," Ben sighed, rubbing his forehead with his forearm. It wasn't often that they forgot a key ingredient.

Morgan poked her head out of the cold room. "What's the problem?"

"There's no carrot!" Ben called back.

She stepped out and closed the door, shutting the muffin mixture and porridge measurements inside for the night. "No one will notice. Besides, they could all do with the greens." Morgan was the most reasonable of them all, as she was the newest.

"You better be right," Ben groaned. He fought the urge to run his fingers through his hair, telling himself that he had a cook's hat on and touching his hair would be unhygienic. The last thing he needed was a stuck-up scientist complaining that the food was unsatisfactory.

The thing was, the members of the Atlantis expedition had no idea what stress the cooks were under. There were ten of them and two head cooks. Each cook worked three or four days a week, usually every second day, and worked full-time days with four or five people in the kitchen at any one time. They woke up well before dawn and hauled ass to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and get it ready before the rest of the expedition was awake. Every dawn they gave yesterday's muffins and sandwiches to the Marines who'd done the night shift, as well as a coffee in a take-away cup, all the while making breakfast. Most of the time it took quite a few hours to prepare, for example if there was bacon and eggs they had to fry each piece of bacon and each egg individually and it was time-consuming. Then, as soon as breakfast was over and cleaned up, they set out fruit and sandwiches before making a start on lunch. After lunch was finished they got started on dinner and dessert, as well as making a start on breakfast the next day. Normally dessert was slice, cake or ice-cream and could sit in the cold room all day, but sometimes (if the cooks were up to it) they made a hot foods like apple crumble. Once dinner and dessert was served, the cooks washed and dried all the dishes, cleaned and wiped the kitchen and locked up before going to bed. At the end of every day they were always exhausted.

It was the responsibility of the head cook to collect orders for food. That was where Taylor was. He'd ordered a stack of flour, meat, vegetables, honey, food colouring, cooking wine and sugar. It was all piled on a cart that he pushed in front of him and he pushed it into the kitchen.

"Quick!" he cried. "Get all this in the pantry and cold room!"

There was a rush as Annie and Morgan grabbed countless packages, taking them to their respective places. Ben and Martin began taking trays out to the serving table one-by-one and Taylor helped them carry the hot food. They wrapped tea towels over their hands in order to carry each tray, as they were searing hot. When each tray was served Ben grabbed the plastic eating trays and stacked them to one side of the food. Once everything was ready Taylor rang the bell and people began to line up, eager for their food. As well as the hot food there were several different types of muffins and fruits. Ben served the beef, Martin served the vegetables and Taylor served the potato. They didn't stop to chat and moved through serving each person efficiently and with a practiced hand.

Inside the kitchen, Morgan put away the last back of meat in the fridge and helped Annie put another rack in the dishwasher. The two women began wiping up the things that had already been through the dishwasher and put them away themselves, since there was no rush.

Once dinner was served to the main group, Taylor, Ben and Martin came in and got started on dessert – chocolate caramel slice. They brought out seven serves of caramel slice and got to work cutting them up evenly, placing them into bowls and adding a dollop of cream. By the time that was done most of the stragglers had turned up and the dinner they'd prepared was all but gone. Annie and Morgan took the trays away while Taylor, Ben and Martin laid out all the dessert bowls. Martin put the container with the spoons above the dessert and people began to come up for dessert. While they were satisfied with their food, talking and laughing in large groups, the five cooks separated out the leftovers (each with a generous amount) and ate their dinner quickly. There was no time for dessert afterwards, as there were over a hundred dinner plates and dessert bowls to clean.

For the next few hours the cooks were there washing and wiping. The Mess Hall was completely empty by the time the kitchen was clean and Taylor was locking up. The five cooks stood tiredly for a second. It was challenging both physically and mentally to be a cook on Atlantis, but the rewards were worth it.

"Look on the bright side," Annie sighed. "We're not cooking tomorrow's lunch."

"Yeah," Martin said smugly. "We don't have to make schnitzel and vegetable soup!"

* * *

**For those who don't know what moist and dry cookery methods are, please let me explain. Moist cookery methods are generally slow and cooking in water. It is used with things like soups, casseroles and stews. In another one of my stories I mention the food boeuf bourguignon and this is a moist cookery method, as it is cooked in water and left to simmer for a few hours (I made this dish for Hospitality this year. I know what I'm talking about and the spelling is correct). As for dry cookery methods, these are generally used when you're, say, cooking crumbed fish. No water is used, and it isn't boiled in anything, so you rely on heat to cook it. Since there is no water used, it is called dry.**

**And that is the difference between moist and dry cookery. If you look closely, the beef I mention is moist cookery and the schnitzel is dry cookery, meaning that each piece has to be cooked separately. Trust me, it takes ****_forever_****! Imagine having to serve it for the entire expedition! Yet another reason why I pity the cooks on Atlantis.**


	2. Laundry

**Behind Atlantis' Laundry Doors**

Two _Daedalus _staff marched through Atlantis, carrying a large and heavy box between then. Both men called for people to get out of their way, as the box was heavy. Everyone they passed pressed themselves against the wall, as far away from the box as possible. If that hit any of them then they would be howling in pain.

By the time they reached the North Pier, both men were grunting from the exertion. Everyone knew what the North Pier was used for and went there a few times a week, but no one bothered to stay and see what actually happened. The men lowered the box carefully and wiped their foreheads.

"Package!" one yelled. A woman in her forties, called Sophie, rushed up and tore the package open. She smiled.

"It's the new laundry machine!" she exclaimed to her staff – three for that day. Sophie grinned as the other staff cheered and she thanked the _Daedalus _personnel profusely. They had ordered this laundry machine several weeks ago, when one broke, but no one thought it important enough to replace. Sophie had to put in the order six times before it was accepted and her staff griped at how insensitive Weir was. Surely she should know how important the laundry was to good morale, but no.

The men from the _Daedalus _left and Sophie turned to her three staff: Megan, Liam and Xi. "Get to work with that last batch," she ordered, "and I'll get this installed."

Megan bent over a massive basket of laundry and lugged it over to a laundry machine, separated the lights from the darks. Fortunately, there were never many lights, so she stuffed the darks into the laundry machine and put it on spin. She put the lights in another machine and hung the baskets up in the racks. By the time the batches of clothes were finished, someone else had put their clothes in the basket out the front and run off. At least all clothing had nametags on them, so the laundry staff wouldn't get mixed up. As soon as the batches were done Megan grabbed them out and carried their immense, soggy weight over to the dryers. She shoved them in, turned on the machine and let the clothes tumble dry. Then she returned to the laundry machines and continued the cycle.

Liam knelt in front of the dryer and shoved all the dry clothes into a basket, carrying it over to the two ironing boards. He and Xi grabbed items randomly, ironing them all as fast as possible and giving them to Sophie. He preferred ironing the pants to jackets, as pants were easier get straight. Xi ironed a majority of the jackets and every so often they ran to the sink to refill their irons. It was a demanding job, putting strain on their arm muscles from day after day of moving an iron without faltering. That came with constant practice and all the laundry staff were quite strong.

While her staff worked, Sophie pushed the laundry machine into a slot in the wall and connected the wires. The Ancients hadn't had any laundry facilities, so the expedition had been forced to improvise. Who else would wash their clothes? Certainly not the tough Marines. After a year of washing their own clothes, it was decided that people would be brought in to do the job for them. It wasn't exactly how the laundry staff imagined their time in another galaxy, but it was better than nothing.

As soon as the machine was connected, Sophie switched it on (so it could warm up) and ran to the ironing boards, grabbing the first item there. She glanced at the name, _Corporal Blanchard, _and folded it, setting it at the front of the appropriate name. The name of each member of the expedition had been written on sticky tape and stuck on a bench. When Corporal Blanchard came to get his clothes he needed only to find his name and take the clothes above it. There were several such benches, each able to fit around forty names. The more important they were, the closer their name was to the front of the room, that way they didn't have to come in further than they had to to get their clothes.

Sophie grabbed a pair of pants and folded them expertly, placing them under the name _Doctor Zelenka. _Then she grabbed a jacket and put it under the same name. When there was no more ironing for that batch, Liam and Xi helped her sort out the smaller, non-ironing items. They sorted out underwear, socks, shirts, shorts, bras and boxers. Sophie had noticed that one woman in particular, _Lieutenant Cadman, _tended to wear lacy underwear and she tried not to think about it. Anyone would be surprised about the amount of personal things the laundry staff found out while washing clothes.

As soon as the next batch was finished in the dryers, Liam and Xi ran to iron them, while Sophie hurried to finish the non-ironing clothes. Once she was done with those she folded the ironing and put them above the right name.

It was an endless cycle, and there were only the four laundry staff. They all worked every single day from sunrise to sunset and it was hardest in the first few hours when people brought in dirty clothes from the previous night. The temperature in the laundry room was nothing to that of the kitchen, but it was still pretty hot. At least they had a large window that always sat open and facing into the north wind, while several workplaces only had ventilation.

The new laundry machine beeped to say it was ready and Megan began to put things in it as well, getting twice the amount of washing done. Each batch fit in the clothes of about fifteen people, and if the entire expedition put in their clothes for every day in every day, then that meant at least twenty batches every morning. Then there were the clothes during the day from teams that had just come from off world, accidents in the labs, people who'd just finished their shift, people who'd just woken up after a late-night shift and countless more.

Xi paused for a second and reached up to the stereo that sat on a shelf just taller than her. She switched it on and _Last Christmas _by Wham began to play.

"Not that song again!" Liam moaned. "Can't you play The Beatles?"

"Pfft, those guys are so last century," Xi protested. "Besides, they didn't sing _Jitterbug. _Wham did. _Jitterbug _is my favourite song of theirs besides _Last Christmas."_

"It's not even Christmas!" Megan called from across the laundry, her voice strained as she lifted more wet clothes into the dryer. "That's already happened!"

Oh, they all remembered Christmas… there had been a huge party and everyone turned up in beautiful outfits. Quite a few of the dresses were only hand-washable and the staff had worked overtime for two days just trying to get all the outfits washed and cleaned. No one thanked them for their effort. They just took the outfits and left without a word.

In short, the laundry staff were completely overlooked and unappreciated.

"Stop lollygagging!" Sophie yelled. "We don't want another episode of last month. Just do the work and don't argue."

Last month one of the new scientists came back complaining that they had the wrong size jacket. "It's too small!" they whined. Liam checked for a tag and threw it back. "It hasn't got your name on it," he snapped, "so you're wearing the jacket of someone else who didn't write their name on it. Put your name on all your clothes and then you'll be fine." Then the scientist chucked a fit about how he wasn't going to take orders from Neanderthals such as the laundry staff, and Liam lost it. The entire work day was disturbed and Sophie had given him a warning to never do anything like that again. At any sign of Liam arguing – even with the other staff – he would be reprimanded. Money and work was lost because of the disturbance and there were complaints about their clean clothes coming later than usual. There were no thanks when the clean clothes were delivered; the expedition members just took the clothes and left without acknowledging the existence of the laundry staff.

Liam glowered at Sophie and continued ironing quickly, putting up with Wham playing. Megan shoved a batch of lights into the dryer and grabbed the clothes that had come in over the last hour. Sophie folded hurriedly, matching nametags to the names on the tape. There was an order – scientists on one bench, botanists on another, Marines on another and so on – so it was better than just going randomly. While they worked, several people came in to grab clothes and didn't spare a glance for the laundry staff.

The laundry was possibly one of the most menial, boring and under-paid job on Atlantis. Yet, it was one of the most important.

* * *

**Lights and darks are different. Lights are the light-coloured clothes and darks are the dark-coloured clothes. As anyone who's done the washing before knows, you cannot mix lights and darks, or there'll be some serious colour mixing. The lights will be stained by the inky material of the darks and the stain cannot be removed. So if you want your clothes to remain the same colour when they come out as when they went in, separate the lights from the darks.**

**Honestly, I thought this was common sense, but as a few of my older friends have never done the washing before, they have no idea. If you have no idea how to do the washing, take this into account. Seriously, it's very important. A white sock will go murky if put in the laundry machine with a pair of black socks. If you do know exactly what I'm talking about, then you should be pleased with yourself. The mistake of mixing lights with darks is commonly made and it ruins countless perfectly fine clothes. So this time my story has a message: ****_DO NOT MIX LIGHTS WITH DARKS._**


	3. Bathroom

**Behind Atlantis' Bathroom Doors**

No one knew of the personal details that the bathroom staff was privy to. Actually, no one really knew that the bathroom staff _existed_.

There were two men and two women who worked in the bathrooms on Atlantis. The two men worked in the men's' bathrooms, while the two women worked in the women's' bathrooms.

It wasn't just the communal bathrooms. Several rooms, belonging to high-ranking personnel like Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay, had their own private bathrooms. The bathroom staff had passes that allowed them into any room, and they often went into private quarters to clean the bathrooms.

Hank and Craig entered the men's bathroom at three in the morning to clean, as no one used the showers at that time in the morning. Usually it was about 5am that they started coming in after morning jogs. Craig dragged his yellow bucket behind him and pulled out a wiper, running it down the glass that Weir had had fitted in during her command. Water rolled under the wiper and splashed on the ground, wetting his shoes. One of the things he was used to was being wet all the time, as his job demanded it. There were fifty individual showers to clean, and that would take forever.

While Craig cleaned the showers, Hank inspected the thirty toilets for clogs and things floating in the water. More than once he flushed a toilet that had toilet paper or urine inside it. Man, some of them reeked! Why didn't men bother to flush after they'd taken a dump? He still found it strange that the Ancients didn't have urinals. The toilets themselves were similar to Earth design, with a seat, but completely different at the same time. He wasn't sure where the water to flush came from, or where the wastage went afterwards. After all the toilets were poop-free, he pulled out his toilet brush and sanitiser, spraying each bowl and seat individually and wiping it down. It was a pleasant odour and he'd gotten used to it after three years on the job.

They were in the communal bathroom for over an hour just cleaning the toilets and showers. Then they took clean towels they'd received from the laundry staff and filled up the towel cupboards, grabbing dirty ones that people had ditched and putting it on the cart that held all their equipment.

Hank opened all the sanitary disposal bins one by one, checking each one. As he opened the third one, he gagged. Another one! Why the hell would people put those in a public bin?! Obviously they didn't care about who saw it. He pulled on a glove and reached in, picking up the rubbish and trying to minimize contact with the item. And it had been used too! This was the worst part of his job. He hated having to clean up things like that, especially knowing that his relationship chances on Atlantis were zero. After all, he was lowly bathroom staff. All he did was clean bathrooms. Women tended to go for the military types who'd distinguished themselves.

Craig finished with the towels and pushed the last dirty one onto the pile on top of the cart. He turned to Hank. "Did you find another one?"

"Yep," Hank said in disgust.

"That's just gross. Don't they realise that someone has to pick those up?!"

"Nope. They just want to get rid of the evidence and don't care for our sanity."

"Hah. No one even knows we exist!"

"Where to now?"

Craig checked their to-do list. "Ronon's bathroom. Oh joy."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the corridor, two women were in a similar situation. Penny was busy unclogging a toilet (what was stuck in there?!) and Divia had just pulled an unwrapped object (used for monthlies) from the sanitary bin. She screwed up her face in disgust and shoved it into a plastic bag that would be burnt. People put some weird stuff in the bins, and didn't even hide it. Once she'd found a letter, sent from a guy to a girl after the Christmas party, saying how much he'd enjoyed himself and asking if she wanted to meet up. Since it was in the bin, Divia assumed the woman had said no. And during that Christmas party a lot of people had gotten drunk and vomited all over the bathrooms. It had taken several long hours to clean.

"That's just nasty," Penny said, wiping sweat from her forehead and eyed the bag distastefully.

Divia sighed. "Don't you ever just want to be like everyone else?"

"What? Not stuck cleaning toilets? You're kidding me. Of course I want to be like everyone else. This job is so unfulfilling. It's worse than the SGC, because then I had a life on Earth. Now I'm stuck with the shallow guys on the base who look at the doctors in the Infirmary."

Penny gave one last push and a wrapper floated to the top of the bowl. She flushed it and got to work cleaning the toilet, knowing with dread that there were still twenty more to go. Divia had cleaned the showers, filled the towel cupboards and emptied the sanitary disposal bins. Since Penny was still cleaning toilets, Divia grabbed her mop and gave the floor a once-over, banishing mud, dirt and other grit from the smooth floor. Once both women were done, they packed up their things and wheeled their cart to Teyla's room. Only six women had private bathrooms, which was good. Ten men had private bathrooms.

Both pairs cleaned every inch of every private bathroom and were done before eight o'clock. The city was waking and all four bathroom staff knew that their careful work in the bathrooms had already been ruined. They dropped off their carts in their allocated storage room and went to the Mess Hall to grab some breakfast, as they'd been up for over five hours already. During the day they would mop the halls and wipe up messes in labs and such, and at about three in the afternoon they would clean all the bathrooms again to get it ready for when everyone else had their showers after sundown. Then they could sleep all they liked unto two-thirty in the morning.

They ate quietly, the four of them tucked away in the corner of the Mess Hall. No one noticed that they were there. Sometimes, when they were mopping the halls, people would push past and knock them over or kick their carts and buckets aside, allowing all the contents to clatter on the ground. It was most notably the Marines and scientists who were completely inconsiderate, as the doctors were a bit more sympathetic.

"Cleaning up crap all day," Craig sighed, "and we get paid less than the botanists. All they do is study _plants_! Our work is harder."

"Physically, but not mentally," Divia reminded him.

"Yeah," Hank agreed. "After all, they have to remember the names of plants and their uses, as well as origin, location, prime growth time and habitat."

"Don't confuse me," Penny moaned. "I hate plants."

Divia looked up and saw Major Lorne enter the Mess Hall with his arm around his girlfriend. She sighed sadly. "I'm never going to have a chance, will I?"

"Probably not," Hank shrugged. "She's a nurse. And she's not Indian."

"Quit with the discrimination!" Penny snapped.

"I'm sorry," Hank groaned. "You know how I am with the disability."

"Yeah, and it's annoying."

"Whatever guys," Craig yawned, finishing his coffee. "I'm mopping the Gateroom today, and I think Colonel Sheppard's team is coming back today. Who knows, I might see them in action!"

"You and your fantasies," Divia sighed, staring at Lorne longingly.

The four of them separated. Craig grabbed his things and went straight to the Gateroom, while Hank mopped the halls all around the Infirmary. Penny and Divia both mopped random halls around Atlantis. At one point there was a spill in a lab and Penny went up to clean it, receiving no thank you. Just a bad-tempered yell to get out by the angry scientist. Craig got to see Colonel Sheppard's team coming in hot, and watched with a wide mouth. They backed through the Gate with their guns up and the shield activated. What he wouldn't give to be cool like them. But they went straight by him without acknowledging his presence. That stung.

At 3pm they met up at the bathrooms and cleaned them again. This time there were less-awkward things in the bins, but more clogged toilets. They had to deal with people using the toilets, too. It was never a pretty sight, but they tolerated it like they always had. No one cared that the bathroom staff didn't want to see anything like that.

Then again, no one knew that they existed.

* * *

**This time it was me feeling sorry for the people who have to clean bathrooms. Have you ever used a public toilet (at the shopping centre or something) and had someone inside cleaning? Did you stop to say hello? They're some of those people who have an important but menial job, but are completely unacknowledged. How would the Atlantis expedition survive without people to clean the bathrooms? I'm sure the Marines wouldn't be caught dead unclogging toilets, nor Sheppard. And Ronon wouldn't even know how to use a shower wiper. He'd end up breaking the glass. I know it's a bit sad, but there are people like this – not smart enough for a good, well-paying job and stuck with cleaning toilets. It's time they got their due, because they're found in every establishment and military base and never thanked for their hard work.**


	4. Construction

**Behind Atlantis' Construction Doors**

"Let's take a bet," Zack said, his feet kicked up on his desk, "on how many doors we'll have to replace today."

Raleigh stroked his stubble thoughtfully. "Hmm… well, I think one. Windows?"

"Three," Zack replied confidently. "What shall we bet? Not money – we did that last week."

"Dessert," Raleigh smirked. "If one door is replaced, I ge' ye dessert. If three are replaced, ye ge' mine. There shouldn't be tha' many accidents in one day!"

"It's Atlantis," Zack pointed out.

These men were the extent of the Atlantis construction staff. The two of them were called on when there was an accident to repair anything that needed repairing. When Atlantis moved to a new planet, they worked overtime to get almost half the city back into shape. Every day there were explosions or accidents that damaged a room or blew up doors. During the quarantine a while back, Sheppard had blown up a door and Zack and Raleigh hauled ass up to repair it. They had a simpler way of repairing than just creating a new door from scratch. It wasn't as if there were new doors or windows lying around, so when Zelenka discovered this handy device it was a relief to the construction staff. There were blueprints of every part of Atlantis in the devices database and all they had to do was find whatever needed repairing, select it and allow it to be created virtually. It required one of them to interface with the device and create it with their mind. Hence why both men had the ATA gene. Once whatever they needed had been created, they took it to the site and fixed whatever needed fixing.

Raleigh popped some gum in his mouth and chewed it absently. A moment later an alarm rang out. He swung around in his chair and to the nearest console. Blueprints of the city were on the screen and a small spot flashed red. He zoomed in on the red and saw a window in lab 18C had been destroyed.

"What is it?" Zack asked.

"Blown up window," Raleigh sighed. He propelled himself across the room on his roller chair and up to the Ancient device. It was similar to the device that had created Merlin's weapon to destroy the Ori, except it required a lot less energy and effort. Raleigh put his hands on the controls and envisioned said window with its precise dimensions. Zack watched as atoms formed above his co-workers head and twisted to create a virtual window. Slowly, it began to solidify, until a window lay on the floor. Raleigh stepped away from the device and rubbed his face, yawning. "Coffee?"

Zack poured him a cup and Raleigh sculled it quickly before grabbing his toolbox and tucking the window under his arm.

He strolled through the corridors, smiling at passing people. Just his luck the lab wasn't anywhere near a Transporter, so that meant a long trek there and back. But he didn't mind. The window wouldn't even become heavy – not since he carried at least ten of them each day and sometimes a door. When there was a door, both men carried one half each and worked together to put the door in place. Construction staff had to have a good understanding of math as well as have the ATA gene and be very strong and able to work thirty-six hour days. It was probably the second hardest job on Atlantis, aside from Infirmary staff.

Raleigh reached the lab and found it empty and clean. Obviously the instigator had gone to the Infirmary and left the clean-up to someone else. Someone had already been there to clean up and taken the large window frame out, allowing Raleigh to simply fit the new frame and pane into the space, screwing it in with a practiced hand. He packed up his tools and returned to the construction office/lab, only to find that Zack had already made a section of wall and gone to place it. A few minutes after settling down, another spot flashed red. This time it was the door to the shooting range, caused by some stray bullets.

"The joys of livin' and workin' in Pegasus," Raleigh muttered. He got to work creating the door and Zack came in as he finished.

"Another door? Really?" Zack didn't try to hide his annoyance. "What is it this time?"

"Stray bullets in the shootin' range."

"Just you wait. Next time we'll be asked to replace the Mess Hall doors when the scientists stampede for their coffee."

They both hefted one half each and hobbled awkwardly from their lab. Thankfully, people dodged around them and made sure that they could move without impairment. At the shooting range, they found several holes blasted through the door by Ronon Dex's gun. The Satedan was nowhere to be seen, nor anyone else. Everyone had skedaddled away to avoid being asked to help. Firstly, they removed the original door with some difficulty and pushed it out of the way. Man, these doors were heavy! Then they fitted in the new door and checked to see if it worked. After a few false-tries, it slid open and closed with ease. They gathered up the wrecked doors and carried them to the room reserved for rubbish. Every time the _Daedalus _was in orbit it beamed up Atlantis' rubbish and got rid of it in a sun or something. The sun was in an uninhabited solar system, so it was okay. There weren't even any Stargates.

It was a relief to return to their lab. By that time it was just getting dark and Raleigh getting ready to pull an all-nighter. Zack had worked the past thirty-six hours straight, starting early the previous morning, and couldn't wait for sleep. Raleigh had only gone for twelve hours so far and he had another twenty-eight before he could sleep. Sure, they dozed in the lab, but it wasn't real sleep. They were always disturbed by repair demands and careless scientists. Zack spun in his chair tiredly, staring at the clock. Five minutes until he could go… four… three… two… one.

"See ya mate," Zack grinned, sweeping from the lab. Raleigh nodded and settled back. Everyone often thought that Doctor Beckett was the only Scot on Atlantis, but he wasn't. Raleigh's accent wasn't as thick, but he was still Scottish. Zack was Australian and often made fun of Raleigh's accent, although Raleigh teased him right back about 'fair dinkum'.

The night passed slowly, with Raleigh watching _X-men _to pass the time. Once the movie was finished he switched on his Walkman and listened to _Flaunt It _by TV Rock. He bobbed his head in time to the music. No other accidents were reported that day, and Raleigh smiled with glee. He had won the bet, and could eat Zack's dessert the following night.

Speaking of dessert, he should probably get some food. But the Mess Hall had closed hours ago and wouldn't be open for another few hours. He hadn't even had dinner! As if sensing his brooding, a red spot flashed on the blueprints and Raleigh pulled off his headphones, zooming into the spot. Broken shower window in one of the rooms. So he created the window and went down to the room to repair it. As he entered, he saw that it was guys-night-out. Several rowdy and drunk Marines paraded around the room shouting and laughing. He pushed past them all and repaired the shower quickly before he was puked on. Thankfully, he wasn't, and ran back to his lab. It was one in the morning! What did they think they were doing?!

Sighing, he sunk back into his chair and rested his head on his desk, his eyes closing slightly. It was a door opening that woke him and he saw Zack coming through the door looking refreshed and carrying breakfast. To Raleigh's surprise, the sun had risen and no incidents had been reported since.

"Thought you'd need some food," Zack said warmly.

"Thanks," Raleigh sighed, taking a muffin gratefully. He chewed on it and Zack settled at the desk beside his. "Ya owe me ye dessert tonight."

"That was the deal," Zack groaned. "Only one door, but two windows instead of three." Both men shared a smile and relaxed for a moment. Raleigh almost stopped feeling tired as he chewed on his muffin.

Then the feeling was gone and the day started all over again.

* * *

**As I'm no genius about construction (that's my brother's job) I skimmed over most of the construction parts. This story was born from a personal musing. In episodes like 'Quarantine' a door is destroyed and in the next episode it's magically repaired. I've always wondered about how it's done, so here's how I imagine it to be. Argh, Bruno Mars just came over the radio! Nooo! Anyway, the device I mentioned is like the one found in Merlin's cave on ****_SG-1_****, the one that allows Merlin and Daniel to create a weapon virtually, and then make it real. I based the idea off that, so it's less-complicated and doesn't make poor Daniel exhausted!**

**I've always pitied the people who had to repair the city after the Replicator attack at the end of Season 3 and beginning of Season 4, so I've given them their due! If you have any suggestions for any other people who work behind the scenes in Atlantis, please either review or PM me with your ideas and if I can, I'll do a chapter on them. Nothing stupid, please, but jobs beneficial for the expedition that people never notice.**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope to hear from you soon with your ideas!**


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